


After The Long Night

by camichats



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Life-Affirming Sex, M/M, Post-Episode: s08e03 The Long Night, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 09:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18808186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: When the dragon falls, dead, Jon's only thought is to find Tormund and make sure he's alright.





	After The Long Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written because they so should have fucked after the battle, who let these dudes write the script

Jon stumbled back in shock as the corrupted version of Vicerion shrieked and crumpled to pieces in front of him. He looked around, expecting to see someone standing victorious for killing a dragon, but there was nothing. It was just Jon and corpses, not even white walkers closing in on him. His heart was beating fast and hard in his chest, his mind not able to understand that he was still alive. He'd been staring at a dragon, screaming at it because all the emotions of fighting to survive and terror and the relief every time he made it out of another situation, all of it was too much and he couldn't hold it in anymore. He'd decided that he didn't want to die cowering behind a piece of rubble, and then... he hadn't. He was alive. 

The Night King must be dead. The battle for the living was over. Everyone that was still alive, they were good. They'd all make it to see the sunrise. 

 _Tormund._  Jon took off running before he could even begin to think about the further implications of what it meant that the battle was done. He ran until he saw people, and he slowed to a stop, looking around frantically. He didn't see Tormund automatically, but that didn't mean much. Jon himself was smudged with mud and grime, so there was no telling how dirty Tormund was, or what sort of injuries he'd be nursing that might have him hunched over. He _had_  to be alive, he just- he _had to be_. They didn't survive all the shit the gods threw at them just to lose each other now. Jon did not die and come back to lose him now. 

He didn't recognise anyone there, so he ran to the next opening. There were a few of the Free Folk here, so he walked up to one of them, helping them up with a hand on their upper arm. "Where's Tormund?" 

It took a minute for the man to shake off the shock that he'd managed to survive this, and he was still scatter brained when he answered. "Last time I saw him he was on the west side of the city," Jon started to move, and the man talked louder so Jon could hear him, "but that was hours ago! He might be-" 

"Get your friends and get out of the cold!" Jon yelled back. No, it wasn't likely that Tormund was still on the far west side of Winterfell, but it was a starting point. The times he saw people still alive were depressingly few and far between. He refused to look at the corpses. 

Jon had run so much that he felt like his lungs were going to burst out of his chest, but he couldn't stop looking. He hadn't seen anyone that he knew personally-- and well-- and he refused to believe that somehow he was the only one to make it out of this war. "Tormund!" he shouted. He climbed over a few bodies, saw the blasted remains of one of the castle's walls. " _Tormund_!" He yelled until his throat was raw, walked for so long that he felt like he was going to fall flat on his face. 

It was worth it though. By the gods, it was all worth it because Tormund was there, he was alive. He had blood on half his face from where he was hurt, but otherwise he looked fine. Jon stumbled towards him, and Tormund heard him coming, turning to look. "Jon." He met him halfway, and they hugged each other so hard Jon could swear he felt bruises forming along his back. "You're insane. You're so bloody insane," Tormund muttered. 

"Let's just-" Jon was shaking. He had to stop talking, turning his face into Tormund's neck where it was easy to feel his body heat. "Let's go to my room." 

Tormund nodded. "Let's go." He followed Jon's lead, since Jon knew these halls better than he did, even after all the sneaking into Jon's bed that he'd done recently. 

There was a silent hush to the building now that people weren't running for their lives, and their steps were muted on the stone. Jon pulled Tormund into his room, and as soon as the door closed he was on him, leaning up and putting a hand on the back of Tormund's head to pull him down. 

Tormund was surprised, but he went easily enough, backing Jon against the door and bending down to heft him up with a hand on each of his thighs. Jon pulled at the ties of his own shirt in a bid to get it off as quickly as possible, not that it was easy with Tormund kissing him for all he was worth. 

"Fuck," he gasped, banging his head back against the wood. His hips jerked forward reflexively, grinding his cock against Tormund's stomach. There were too many layers between them for it to feel good. There was mud on his face, blood on Tormund's, and all he wanted to do was get their bodies moving together, because no matter what else happened, that was always good. 

Tormund bit at his neck, feeling Jon's pulse leap under his lips as he lowered him back to the ground. 

Jon's fingers were spasming uselessly at his shirt front as he tried to get his thoughts in order, so Tormund reached up and tugged, long since used to doing this when Jon got stuck in his head. It fell open and Tormund pushed it off his shoulders, throwing it to the side once it was clear of his arms. He brought his mouth down to Jon's shoulder, biting at the clear skin and marring it with pink. 

Jon got his hands to work again, and he undid his pants, pushing them over his hips and onto the floor. His cock brushed against the fur Tormund was wearing, and he whimpered. He started to fumble with the front of Tormund's shirt, desperate to get skin on skin, desperate to feel warm and remind himself of all the ways they were alive. 

All Tormund had to do to calm him was put a strong hand on the side of his face and say, "We've got time." 

Jon closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. They did have time; they weren't going to die tonight, or in any of the next few hours. They were going to live to see tomorrow, and the day after that, and the years after that. "Does that mean you're not going to fuck me?" 

"Don't be stupid, pretty crow. Get your arse on the bed," he said, giving Jon's thigh a light slap. 

Jon walked to the bed and climbed onto the furs, making sure that he kept looking at Tormund, afraid that something would happen to him if he took his eyes off him for too long. He would have been embarrassed by it, except Tormund was looking at him the same way. There was a heat there, the way there always was when they had sex, but there was also a focus reminiscent of when Jon had died and Tormund was terrified to his bones that it would fade away. 

He shed the rest of the clothes he was wearing and prowled closer, crawling on top of Jon. He only kissed him for a minute, rough, fierce kisses that had so much desperation to them that it was clear the bullshit was falling to the side. They were alive, and neither of them had thought that they would be. Even if one of them managed to survive, they had thought it would be to live alone for however much longer they lasted. 

Tormund reached for the bedside table for the jar of oil, uncapping it and dipping his fingers inside. They came out slick, and he shifted so that it was easy to reach between Jon's legs. He slid two fingers into Jon easily; they'd fucked before the fight, so he was still loose from it. 

"C'mon Tormund, I'm ready," he breathed raggedly, pushing his hips down onto Tormund's fingers. 

He wiped the rest of the oil over his cock, then grabbed Jon to spread his legs wide as he pressed inside. There was nothing sweet or gentle about it. He started fucking Jon with hard thrusts that made his body sway against the bedding, but he fisted his hands into the furs and shoved his hips to meet Tormund stroke for stroke. 

Their harsh breaths filled the room along with the slaps of skin as their hips met, both of them being driven higher and higher as they chased their pleasure together. Tormund was holding Jon's hips so tight there were bruises biting into his skin, and Jon was leaving scratches along Tormund's shoulders as he tried to force him deeper, harder. 

Jon clenched impossibly tight around Tormund's cock as he came, throwing his head back and his back arching almost violently. He was shuddering as he came down from the high, and Tormund was still fucking him, rhythm erratic before his back bowed and he buried his head into Jon's shoulder. He growled out Jon's name as he came, holding him so tight he felt like he'd never get rid of the feeling-- and he felt all the safer for it. 

"We should-" Jon stopped and swallowed, still panting and breathless. "There's wounded, and bodies to gather. We- have to see who's still alive." 

Tormund kissed Jon, holding his head in place with a firm hand. "Okay, let's go." He smoothed Jon's hair away from his face, then kissed him again. He climbed off the bed and grabbed their clothes, dumping it in a pile on top so they could sift through them easier. He pulled on his pants before sitting down again, and it was with heavy arms that he managed to shake his shirt free and slip it back on. "You okay?" he asked when all Jon managed to do was sit up. 

"Shaky." 

"Sorry." 

"I'm not." 

Tormund got his shirt for him and helped him put it on. Suggesting that he stay here wouldn't do anything except make him hide it more, so he shook out the pants and knelt in front of Jon. "C'mon little crow, I can't do everything for you." 

Jon snorted, lifting one of his legs and doing a fair job of pretending that all his limbs were in perfect working condition. "We're alive." 

"Aye, we are. You surprised?" 

"Yes. You?" 

"Very. But we made it." 

"The cost was high," Jon said. 

"Not much we can do about that." 

"I know." 


End file.
